


Mercy

by kileythedestroyer



Category: Hazbin Hotel (Web Series)
Genre: Alastor is absolutely not nice, Alastor is in Hell for a Reason (Hazbin Hotel), Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Student/Teacher, Author is back from The Void™, Definitely inspired by See You After Class, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Graphic Description of Corpses, Human Alastor (Hazbin Hotel), Human Angel Dust (Hazbin Hotel), Loss of Virginity, MILD Rape/Non-con Elements, Mildly Dubious Consent, Praise Kink, Professor!Alastor, Sex Positive Alastor (Hazbin Hotel), Shaaaaameless smut guys it gets graphic, Size Kink, Touch-Averse Alastor (Hazbin Hotel), Trigger warnings will be applied at the beginning of the offending chapter, Viv I’m still sorry, because author loves you guys
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-07
Updated: 2020-09-07
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:21:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26344039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kileythedestroyer/pseuds/kileythedestroyer
Summary: “𝘊𝘭𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭,” you felt him grin against your throat, “you clearly do not need tutoring with this level of expertise. In fact, it makes me wonder if the real reason you came here…” a pause, as his lips moved to brush against the shell of your ear, “were for those 𝘦𝘹𝘵𝘳𝘢 𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘴 your friend was so insistent upon.”
Relationships: Alastor (Hazbin Hotel)/Reader
Comments: 31
Kudos: 165





	Mercy

**Author's Note:**

> After reading a Charlastor fic, See Me After Class, I find myself inspired and thirsting for more professor Al.

Majoring in psychology had come so naturally to you. You were always inclined to know more about the human mind; you’d been fascinated by its inner workings for as long as you could remember.

When you started your freshman year of college, though, the last thing you expected was to be smitten with your professor.

On the first day of class, he introduced himself on a first-name basis only, leaving you and your classmates to wonder why.

_My name is Alastor_ , you remember him telling the class, _but you are to address me as professor or sir._

The man was gorgeous. Dark brown hair, tan skin, and honey eyes. He positively towered over you in comparison, and he carried himself with an air of infuriating charm that you couldn’t help but adore.

You supposed your attraction to him positively affected your drive to be successful in the course, found yourself hanging on to his every last word as if it were the gospel truth. But more often than not, you found yourself daydreaming during his lectures.

Today was no different. Having already excelled in this lesson, you allowed your attention to drift elsewhere. 

“Who here can tell me five traits of Borderline Personality Disorder?”

The calm, accented voice of your professor broke through the haze of your self-indulgent reverie. Back in reality, no one had raised their hand. You were most certain it was out of fear of his scrutiny.

You, however, were not.

So when he called on you, singled you out from the rest of your peers, you were able to answer with confidence.

“Frantic efforts to avoid real or imagined abandonment, unstable and intense interpersonal relationships, suicidal or self-mutilating behavior, chronic feelings of emptiness, and poor impulse-control.”

“Splendid as always, my dear! And as for the rest of you, do not shy away from paraphrasing criteria in terminology that you can understand.”

As he went off on a tangent, you found your mind wandering once more. You stared at his hands, lithe fingers curled around a whiteboard marker, the motions of his wrist as he wrote ‘ _Psychopath vs. Sociopath_.’

“These two terms are commonly misused interchangeably. I would like you all to take a moment to list the differences between a psychopath and sociopath. You have fifteen minutes.”

Quiet groans resounded throughout the room, followed by the shuffle of paper as your classmates began the grueling task of distinguishing the terms from one another.

You began to follow suit until a folded piece of paper landed on your desk. You turned to the source of said paper – none other than your dear friend Anthony – who impatiently motioned for you to open it. 

_There’s gonna be a day when Mr. Smiles notices you staring,_ _ya dumb broad. Maybe you should take up some “extra_ _lessons” with him, I’m sure he could teach ya a thing or two ;)_

You shot him a glare, hastily scribbling down your answer before flinging the note back at him.

_Shut the literal fuck up, Ant. Do your work_

He had to stifle a laugh before neglecting his task in favor of writing out a proper response to fluster you more.

Wholly distracted by Anthony’s antics, you failed to realize that the very professor you two were secretly discussing had caught on to the shenanigans of his students. Though irritated and already contemplating punishment, your professor remained composed, instead deciding to take an inconspicuous stroll around the classroom.

Once he’d passed the note back to you, you were careful to unfold it in a way that wouldn’t attract any attention in the silence of the room.

_Come on toots, you know you want him. I’m willing to bet_ _my_ _left nut he wants you too. The entire freshman class_ _knows_ _you’re his favorite student_

Just as you were about to crumple the paper, it was snatched right out of your hand. You nearly jumped out of your skin, swiveling around in your chair to face none other than your professor himself.

“Passing notes? How _juvenile_ ,” he jeered, eyes glinting with mischief. “Perhaps you’d like to share with the rest of the class?”

Your stomach swooped with fear as the devil himself unfolded the paper and skimmed over its contents. You could only watch with horror as he opened his mouth to read it out loud, only for his smug grin to twitch and _falter_ once he processed the conversation on the paper.

Just then, the bell rang, signaling the end of the class. Quietly and almost hesitantly, your classmates began to pack their bags, the majority of them looking to Alastor for his go-ahead.

“Class dismissed,” he sighed, an annoyed tick forming in the crease of his brow. “Leave your assignment on your desks. Grades will be posted by midnight tonight.”

His words struck a pang of fear into your gut. You hadn’t even gotten started on the assignment, thanks to Anthony (you had half a mind to choke him later on). It would likely result in a major blow to your average in the class, given it was so early on in the semester. Your face burned with shame as you began to put away your notebooks, jumping when you felt a firm hand on your shoulder.

“Not you,” Alastor clarified.

You watched your colleagues file out of the room. Anthony was the last to leave, and he flashed you a look that seemed genuinely, _suspiciously_ apologetic before disappearing down the hall.

The silence of the room only further added to your unease. You couldn’t bring yourself to look him in the eye – though you felt his stare boring a hole through the side of your face.

“Care to explain, young lady?”

You flinched at his tone, unable to stop your hands from shaking as they were. You felt _mortified_.

He circled around your desk to stand in front of you. His arms folded neatly behind his back as he leered down at you, smile strained, _expectant_.

“I–”

“I find your blatant disregard for education quite offensive,” he interrupted you, “I do not get paid to harbor a class of hooligans, and I will not tolerate childish behavior. You know, if this class _bores_ you so, I could have you removed.”

“No!” You blurted before you could stop yourself, inwardly cursing at the man as his grin widened. “It’s… not that. I’m usually not this distracted. Please, I need this course for my major, I…” you trailed off, certainly not above begging.

He hummed as though he were contemplating _actually_ having you removed from his class.

“I need to be certain that you are taking this course seriously. Not to mention the zero for this assignment will be _devastating_ to your average.”

A wave of nausea swept over you as he confirmed your fears of your average falling. You thought of how it would affect your scholarship, the mere possibility of having to pay more tuition than you already had to nearly brought you to tears.

“I could do extra credit,” you offered quickly, watching as his eyebrow quirked at your suggestion.

“Dear, you aren’t in high school anymore. There is no such thing as extra credit.”

He briefly basked in your increasing panic, in how painfully _naïve_ you could be at times. It was almost endearing.

“However…”

The word cut through your inner turmoil, and his features seemed to soften at the glimmer of hope in your eyes.

“I suppose I could show some leniency on you just this once, given you _are_ the top student of your class,” he placed a finger on his chin, mulling over potential solutions to your predicament. “I’ll give you the chance to make up the assignment today.”

“Done and _done_ ,” you agreed hastily, unable to control your display of excitement. “I can come by after school, what time should I be here?”

His head tipped back as that jeering, posh laugh of his rang out into the air, his chest shaking with genuine amusement.

“ _Silly girl_ ,” he chided, “I don’t stay here any longer than I’m paid to.”

He picked up the pen on your desk, writing something down on the blank sheet of paper that was originally intended for your assignment.

_His address._

You stared down at it, gobsmacked in the fact you’d been invited to your professor’s home. A ripe tomato couldn’t have held a candle to the shade your face turned.

“You’re free to leave, my dear. I’ll see you this afternoon,” he spun on his heels and made his way back to his desk. “To rectify your failure on this assignment, we’ll be taking a more… _hands-on_ approach to the socio-psychopath dilemma. One that is harder than the task you had at hand today.”

Wordlessly, you nodded, packing your bag and heading for the door.

“Oh and, just one more thing.”

You turned around slowly, meeting the gaze of your professor.

“Consider this the proverbial olive branch I’m extending to you,” Alastor flashed you his signature smirk before his voice dropped an octave. “ _Don’t say I never showed you mercy._ ”

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter two is in progress, and if this post shows any promise, the second chapter will likely be posted anytime between today and the end of the week. I’m happy to tell you I always see my one-shots to the finish, especially with positive feedback. Comments and critiques are greatly appreciated and give me drive to write more. Author loves you guys.


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